


lasso the moon and the stars (and pull that rope tight)

by wesawbears



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-01
Updated: 2019-05-01
Packaged: 2020-02-15 17:38:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 606
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18674362
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wesawbears/pseuds/wesawbears
Summary: Theon was going to die here, alone on the ground...until he didn't.In which 8x03 goes differently and Theon and Sansa have a conversation.





	lasso the moon and the stars (and pull that rope tight)

Everything goes hazy once he falls to the ground. He’s going to die here, and now, Bran is too. It wasn’t enough. He wasn’t enough, again.

Faintly, he hears a yell and a crash and then- Arya?

“Bran! Are you alright?”

“I am fine.”

“Seven he-did you know?”

“If I told you what would come to pass, if wouldn’t have worked.”

He’s fast losing his grip on reality, but- it worked? The battle was over? That knowledge has him fighting to take a shallow breath. Blood bubbles from his mouth, but he manages to cough weakly, enough to maybe, maybe get their attention.

“I’m here,” he thinks, “Please, please, I’m here.”

He hears footsteps and feels more than sees Arya kneel next to him. She’s screaming for help when everything goes black.

\--

When he wakes, he knows he’s alive from the pain that sears through his gut, but he learned to more or less block out pain years ago, for better or worse. He tries, foolishly, to sit up, but all it does is wrench a cry of pain from him and knock the wind out of him.

“Theon?” he hears and cracks an eye open. 

Sansa is sitting there, mouth agape and he’s at a loss. Once he would have had a clever quip, but now all H=he manages to say is, “I died…”

That startles a laugh from her, more hysterical than truly amused and says, “No. But you will if you pull your stitches.”

He shakes his head. “But I was- the Night King, he-”

Sansa bites her lip. “The maesters said they didn’t think it would work. You’ve been asleep for days. The fever alone was enough to kill you, if not the wound…”

“I made you a promise, didn’t I?”

Her eyes flicker with confusion. “What?”

“Before I left. You told me to come back to you.”

Her face crumples and she takes his hand. “You did. And I don’t care how it happened. Just that it did.”

“I guess the Gods aren’t done with me yet.”

She smiles faintly at that and holds tighter to his hand. “Forget the Gods. I’m not done with you.”

He raises an eyebrow. “Lady Sansa…” 

They laugh for a moment before the thought comes to him unbidden. “I was ready to die. I’ve never thought about what came after.”

“Stay with me,” she says.

“Sansa…”

“I mean it.”

He softens. “I know you do. You mean it now. But I have nothing to give you. I passed my lands and titles to my sister. I’d pledge my sword, but you have Brienne to protect you. I can’t...I can’t give you children. What purpose would I serve here?”

She’s quiet for a moment before saying, softer than he’s ever heard her, “I had given up on ever marrying for love. I thought I would live the rest of my life alone, because I refuse to be sold away ever again.” She clasps his hand. “But my father once said that when I was old enough, he would find me someone brave, and gentle and strong. I don’t want lands and titles and children. I just want someone brave and gentle and strong to love me.”

“Sansa, I-”

She leans down to press a kiss to the corner of his lips and any words he would say die in his throat. She pulls back and looks at him with so much adoration he almost believes he’s dead after all.

He finds his voice at last and says, “Then I will try to be worthy of you, always.”

She exhales and smiles. “You already are.”


End file.
